firefly souls & impending august

i promised myself not
to write this poem as
i sat outside last night & realized
the dwindling of the fireflies. 
counting three-- their dull light
bulbs-- filaments tired blazing--
the fires of humid late july night. 
there was no one else outside 
so i caught one to talk to-- 
i asked them why it was 
that fireflies have
bioluminescence. fear? escape? art?
did you invent Morris code
with your bodies? they refused 
a response so i searched an answer
on my phone, thinking
about how surreal it is to 
live in a searchable world. 
what mysteries are the firelfies
keeping from us when they fade
out each year. i needed
to tell someone so i told
you about how the fireflies 
are talking-- how they inhale
to control to the flickering of
their bodies. they have no lungs
but they bring in air using 
vesicles. i continue meandering--
pick another one up & inquire
if he'd want to teach me how
to breathe like that-- how to 
turn the glow on inside 
my chest-- i swallowed christmas
lights & tea candles to no effect.
they use their shining to find 
each other. i think about how
come august this most be especially
important, seeing as there's only
a few of them left. rousing at night,
voices hoarse from brilliance.
three fireflies telling june stories 
around the base of the dying oak 
street. they envy the moths whose
deaths are more dramatic at the hands
of the street lamps. i linger &
request to listen to their tales
as well. they don't mind. they want
to know how it is i find the rest of
my kind without relying on the 
gleam of a body & i have no answer
for them. before i go
back inside i stare at the apartment
building & imagine each little room
a dazzle-- are these my people?
the hallways was dark & the door
to the stairwell closed heavy.
is this august then? is this us? 
out the window i watch the whole
field turn bright-- the souls 
of all the summer's fireflies 
gathering to keep the rest company.
i pull the blinds shut-- breathe 
deep one last time-- ignite 
myself with the blue lights 
from the top drawer of my desk.